


the medical sled

by Stabbsworth



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Concussions, Gen, based on stuff that i discussed with another person.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21578857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stabbsworth/pseuds/Stabbsworth
Summary: The medical sled is merely a tool designed for easy transportation of injured or sick survivors to a more convenient place.Wilson has no idea how he was put on it.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

The smell of antiseptic wakes him, and he's not too sure as to how he got here in the first place. He's faintly aware that he's moving.

Given the smell of antiseptic and the grunts of someone nearby, it probably wouldn't be too far to assume that he was in the sled. It takes him a moment to realize this, and he shifts, trying to find a spot that's comfortable.

He's tired, and the tinnitus has started up again, much to his growing discomfort.

The sled was a thing that was started up by Wickerbottom, blueprinted by Wilson and actually built by Woodie.

The intended purpose was to be able to move someone if they were sick or injured and unable to move themselves, without having to get someone to lift them.

The design also proved to be useful for being able to drag more materials back to the base than what their inventory space would allow. The original was dubbed as the medical sled, because it had a strong smell of antiseptic.

The smell was a result of being washed down with spider gland juices. Wickerbottom had said this was the best sterilization they'd be able to get.

Infections could be deadly, and none of the survivors wanted to take that risk when it came to their health.

He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into his arms in an attempt to block out the glare of the sun.

Too bright.

Wilson shifted again, breathing out in a slight whine. The sled was barely comfortable at best. The straw roll made so many things itchy.

Another customary sterilization measure was to change the straw roll every single time the sled was used for its intended purpose. The dirty straw rolls would then be used as campfire fuel.

Fur rolls were much comfier, but cleaning those out would take time and energy and clean water.

So they stuck to straw rolls.

The sled was only temporary, he told himself. The discomfort would only be for a little while longer. Just until he got checked out for anything serious.

Wickerbottom had more experience in this sort of thing than he did, something like that. And a finished degree.

He flinched when the sled hit an uneven bit of ground, unable to do much else other than shift to a marginally more comfortable position. Where was his thermal stone…?

He didn't really remember any of the circumstances that led to him being put in the sled.

That alone was… definitely a cause for concern, but Wilson didn't really feel much towards this. More towards too tired to feel all that much.

He'd probably be fine. Just get some rest and figure out if he needs any mushrooms or bandages. Nothing looked so bad that it needed to be sewn up.

Wilson shuts his eyes again, and rolls onto his other side, flinching when the sled hits another bump. He'd be just fine in the morning, probably. Nothing to worry about.

Aside from the ringing. Probably a blocked ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> primarily based on stuff that i was discussing with SilentSlaughterParty in a discord server. they apparently don't have an ao3.
> 
> the original idea had the survivors using a wheelbarrow, which would be lined with dingy fur from either bunny tufts or beefalo wool. i have no idea which, it wasn't specified. this wouldn't be cleaned out. this was to transport sick or injured survivors to somewhere more convenient.
> 
> it got changed to the usage of a sled, because sleds are easier to make out of wood, and much easier to transport. wickerbottom has a policy of changing the straw roll every time it's used, because bodily fluids are excellent vectors for infection.
> 
> probably.
> 
> straw rolls aren't very comfortable.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilson gets sad over a thermal stone. Woodie tries to comfort him.

When he next wakes, it's in the dark.

There's a moment of panicked flailing, before he registers the blankets over him and the headache.

Then he silently curls up and sighs, easing himself back onto the makeshift mattress.

The click of a lantern being switched on makes him flinch, if only due to the noise being so loud. He blinks a little, rolling onto his other side, squinting at the bright light as his eyes try to adjust.

He gives a weak vocalization, trying to get a good look at who is in the tent. Wilson isn't particularly sure as to whether it's his tent or not, and he's not too sure if he wants to ask.

"'ey, you're awake, then, eh?" A rumble from the person, and he definitely knows that voice. He's happy about it being quiet enough to not cause the headache to get any worse.

"Woodie?"

"Yep." Woodie blinks, grins a little. "So ya didn't lose yer memories, then."

He… realizes that not all of that could be considered true. He doesn't remember why he was put on the sled in the first place and brought back here.

Wilson isn't entirely sure on how to vocalize this.

The scientist shifts again, blinking blearily as he looks up at Woodie.

"...Uh. D'you-... D'you know what happen'?" A little too slurred for his liking. Hell, he can almost imagine the lecture he'd get from his father.

Woodie blinks a little, perhaps in concern. "You got bonked aboot a bit. Mostly by the Deerclops. Willow was in a rush to get me before you 'alf froze."

He blinks. So that might explain the lack of a thermal stone.

"Where's m'thermal?"

"You lost your heat rock?"

"Mm." It's about all the response he can give right now. Hell, he can already feel the tears welling up and he hates it. He rolls over onto his other side so that Woodie doesn't have to see this.

He must've caught it, because the next thing he says carries a concerned tone. "Hey, buddy, it's okay. We can go find it in the mornin'."

There's a sniffle from Wilson's end of the tent, and he wipes his eyes with a gloved hand, then takes to rubbing his temples for a moment.

Why the hell is he getting upset over a damn rock anyways?

His head hurts and he's not entirely sure how he feels about it and he's definitely sad over the loss of his thermal stone.

Probably because they can't make any more until spring comes along? He can't just ask someone to go collect rocks or something for him to make a thermal stone with.

There's the sound of something shifting behind him, and he briefly shivers at the feeling of a hand on his head.

So warm.

Then the hand starts going through his hair.

"I know it's a bit of an inconvenience, but we'll get it back tomorrow, yeah?"

It's the lumberjack's attempt to be comforting. Physical contact and words in that Canadian accent of his.

He nuzzles into the hand. It feels like it's the first bit of physical contact he's had in ages, and it doesn't feel all that bad. Wilson breathes out in a shaky sigh, idly scratching at his beard.

The hand is gone now, but he can hear shifting behind him, then a knee at his back, a quiet apology about that as Woodie shifts and mutters to himself as he gets under the covers with him. He budges over a bit to make more room, which is responded to with a thank-you.

Wilson gives a slight noise in curiosity when he feels the man's arms around him, before he's pulled into a bit more of a hug.

...It's warm. Very warm.

He rolls onto his side to face the lumberjack, and tries to hug back as best he can, headache just about forgotten about. Well, more towards in the back of his mind, but it's better than the damn pain being in the forefront.

It's safe here, and he's warm, and he's being hugged for the first time in quite some time, assumedly.

He wriggles to try and get comfortable, shutting his eyes again.

Tomorrow would probably be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did this entirely in a single night. hell yeah.
> 
> it's not intended to be shippy but it can be read that way if you'd like it to be.


End file.
